Category Archives: United States

Spot On Images

TRAVEL HERE: WHAT’S NEW WITH US!

I’ve got exciting news to share.  Bill and I have been nurturing a secret for several months, but now we’re ready to spill the beans.  Read all about Spot On Images and spread the news.

A Little of This and That

So what happens when you take a husband with an entrepreneurial streak, an MBA in business and a passion for photography and you match him with a wife with three decades of marketing experience and a degree in Creative Writing, who’s heavily into blogging and social media.  Well, if the two shared a successful real estate business for several years before the bubble, you might end up with Spot On Images.

If you’ve ever wondered, “What am I doing here,” but in the next moment realized you’ve been training for this opportunity all your life, then you know how we feel right now.  If I were to try to tell you where it all started, I have no idea where I’d begin.  It would be sometime after we were born on separate continents, but the story would have to start long before we ran into each other one day at the Dallas Museum of Art.

So, let’s start with the day we learned a real estate photographer friend was moving out of the area.  While most people would discuss the details of departure dates and moving vans, Bill wanted to know if they would be interested in selling their business.

Real Estate in the Days Before Smart Phones

OK, I know my husband is a great real estate photographer, but his question took me by surprise.  Back in the days before the bubble, when all this online real estate shopping was brand new, you were lucky if a listing had a picture on it.  If a For Sale sign had a brochure box, chances are it was a printout from the MLS.  That’s not how we sold houses.  Mr. Bill would go out with our new-fangled digital camera and take pictures.  We’d upload as many as we could to the MLS  (I think you could only post 11), along with descriptions that went far beyond “3/2/2 in desirable neighborhood with ocean view” which seemed to be the norm.

We weren’t the only ones there on California’s Central Coast who appreciated the advantages the internet offered to real estate agents, but we were unique enough for our listings to really stand out and I took it a step further.  I created a unique brochure for every home.  No MLS printouts and no sticking the pictures in a pre-formulated brochure and filling in the blanks.  Each brochure was an individualized masterpiece.  I’d labor over matching the right font with my carefully crafted words and mix the text with Bill’s pictures.  We’d even print the brochures in color on coverstock, an expense most agents thought was a complete waste of money.

Nowadays, that just sounds like business as usual, but back then, we were mavericks.  What’s more, it worked.  People contacted me to show my listings and then as we wrote the offer, they’d say things like, “I knew the minute I read the brochure I wanted to live here,” or “When we saw the pictures and read the description on the internet we knew it was our house.”  Meanwhile, most real estate agents were still doing it the way they always had – working the desk at the broker office, sending out postcards to their “farm”, lowering their commission and then spending most of it on advertising.

Unfortunately for our career, the real estate bubble burst.  Our lives brought us back to Texas and that was a good thing.  However, the real estate bug had gotten into Bill’s bloodstream.  Come back next week and I’ll tell you about it.

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Filed under DESTINATIONS, DFW Metroplex, Real Estate Photographry, TRAVEL, United States

Have a Happy Fourth!

TRAVEL HERE: PROUD TO BE AN AMERICAN

My country is changing.  I am a child of the Fifties.  In spite of all the turmoil Americans are putting themselves through,  I cling to those days of starched petticoats and moon shots, when it was good to be an American.

It’s Good to Be an American

I still believe it’s good to be an American.  I have traveled to many wonderful places and hope to visit many more, but there’s no place else I’d rather call home.  Yes, things are changing, but I can still smell freedom in the air and I think there are enough of us who still believe in liberty to defend it, if that becomes necessary.

We’re not as free as we used to be and that worries me.  Most of my freedoms have been taken away in the name of protecting me.  It’s a small thing, but I hate putting on my seat belt each time I get in the car.  It might be the wise thing to do, but I remember the first car my family had with seat belts.  It was a baby blue Pontiac Bonneville.  The seat belts were an accessory.  I know how many lives they say seat belts have saved and I’m glad for that.  I just wish it wasn’t a law.

I also miss cold beer in my cup holder.  I know all the statistics on that one, too, but I’m telling you, road trips just aren’t the same.  Many of my favorite date nights were long rambles throughout the surrounding countryside sharing a six pack.  I fell in love with this form of entertainment back in Nacogdoches, when I was attending Stephen F. Austin State University.  I was a member of BCK (broke college kids).  We’d pool our resources, pick up a six-pack or two at Jimmy Bob’s and head out to explore some country road.  This was in the days before GPS, so finding your way home eventually was all part of the fun.  Driving around dusty roads with the windows down, radio on, singing along with all your favorite songs and  wetting your whistle with a semi-cold beer…those really were the days.

These days I’m exhausted by my Facebook page.  So many people angry about so many things and everybody else righteous about something else.  Heck, I grew up during the days of Jim Crow vs. Civil Rights and folks managed to be nicer to each other than we are today.  I have no idea how being politically correct became more important than being polite, but a little tact and courtesy goes a much longer way than using the PC word du jour.  We don’t say the N word anymore.  It has been replaced by the R word.  How is that better?

I liked the pre-Walmart days when I shopped for my school wardrobe at Colbert-Volk and had lunch at S&S Tearoom.  I liked it when Neiman-Marcus was owned by Mr. Neiman and Mr. Marcus, rather than some conglomerate which also owns Target.  How does that make any sense?  My department stores were Titche-Goettinger and Sanger-Harris.  Unlike the Macy’s around the corner, you could just look at at the tag and know what the price would be.  You didn’t have to find the scanner and dig through your pockets for Star rewards.  There were no low price guarantees, because service, quality and “made in America” were worth paying for.  The clothes we wore were about our own taste, instead of a monogram or logo.  Besides, if you knew clothes, you didn’t need a giant CD to tell you who the designer was.  They also didn’t ask me to donate to XYZ charity every time I checked out.

Yep, those were the days, but now these are the days.  I think the American pendulum has reached the peak of globalization, political correctness and green thinking – at least I hope so.  We’re at that moment of hesitation when the pendulum sits at the top of its arc and we wonder if it’s stuck.  There are forces trying to hold the pendulum in place, but I’m hoping the force of gravity will win.  If we ever get back to the days where our shoes matches our purses or gloves and hats are de rigueur on Sunday mornings, then you’ll know I’ve reached nirvana.

I hope you do have a happy 4th.  I hope my stroll down memory lane has reminded you of the things you used to love best about America.  May God bless you each and every one – and may God bless the USA.

 

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Filed under DESTINATIONS, Road Trips, TRAVEL, United States

Birmingham Museum of Art

birmingham-museum-of-art02202017

Birmingham Museum of Art

TRAVEL THERE: THE JEWEL OF BIRMINGHAM

When the possibility of visiting Birmingham first came up, I checked out the city online.  The city seemed to be a foodie haven with a great art museum and a nice botanical garden, but comparing their hours to our flight schedule and the hours of the thing I can’t tell you about, I wasn’t going to have time to do anything about any of that.  So, I dutifully went about my business.  Still, something in my subconscious kept clanging.  I couldn’t exactly recall why, but I knew I really wanted to see the museum.

bma-postcard02202017Perhaps, Maybe, Possibly

One day at lunch, before we took off on the Birmingham adventure, I mentioned to Hannah Beth that I regretted we weren’t going to have time to do the touristy thing.  She assured me the museum was well worth seeing and mentioned a couple of possibilities we might have for seeing it.  I assured her I had checked for evening hours, so that wouldn’t work, but skipping the final session – that would do.

I just happen to be one of those people who believe God is personally involved in my life.  I also believe that if I’m willing to put Him first, He does everything he can to fulfill Psalms 37:4, “Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desire of your heart.”  In fact, He’s proved it to me too many time to deny it.

So, while we were keeping an ear to the ground to find out how significant the final session would be, God was arranging to keep things ahead of schedule so that we could get out in plenty of time to make it to the museum.  You may call that a coincidence.  I don’t believe in coincidences.

My Wedgewood-esque Fireplace

My Wedgewood-esque Fireplace

An Embarrassment of Wedgwood

If you’ve been hanging around this blog for very long, then you know the Decorative Arts Wing of any museum is my prime objective when I make a visit.  I love Decorative Arts better than anything else produced from the artistic mind.  I can spend an entire day in a Porcelain gallery – a passion I learned from my mother.

What’s more, Wedgwood,especially their Jasperware, (matte porcelain with relief decorations) is among my most favorite porcelains. Don’t believe me?  Take a gander at the photo of the fireplace my husband and I designed for our home.  You don’t have one of these unless you love Wedgwood.  It was inspired by two I’d seen in Mount Vernon.

Along with representative Wedgwood pieces gracing the mantle piece, there are various Wedgwood and Jasperware pieces spread throughout the house.  For good measure, my everyday china is Wedgwood.  Not Jasperware but Wedgwood.  So imagine my delight when I glanced over the map of the Birmingham Museum and saw three galleries designated by the word “Wedgwood”.

The Dwight and Lucille Beeson Wedgwood Collection

If you love Wedgwood the way I love Wedgwood, then go ahead and book the flight.  I’ve been in a lot of museums and so far, I’ve never seen one with so much Wedgwood.  I haven’t been to The Wedgwood Museum at Stokes-on-Trent yet, but that’s only because it didn’t exist decades ago when I visited the city.  I can assure you, this is the most Wedgwood you are going to see anywhere outside of Britain.

The galleries contain mostly Jasperware in a rainbow of hues, but they have samples of other forms of Wedgwood collected by the couple.  I swear I could have visited the museum every day for a week and been perfectly happy studying the exhibits in the three galleries.  Here are some samples.

 

That blue and yellow vase on the jade pedestal would be great in my yellow and blue French decor but the dark blue wine cooler with the white flowers must be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.  I’d leave it in the museum for others to share.

Giving the Rest of the Art Its Due

Even if you don’t like Wedgwood, the Birmingham Museum of Art is still a good thing to see.  Porcelains from other places are prevalent throughout the museum, but there are also paintings and statues and other things to enjoy.  I did run through the balance of the galleries at a high speed and then rushed back to gander at the Wedgwood a little more.  However, I did get these two postcards to prove the museum has variety.

 

ww-book02202017Buying the Book

In this digital age, when you can find almost any piece of art you’d like to see by searching it online, art books might not seem a good investment to some people.  Maybe other people spend their time cruising museums online, but I’ll confess, I want to be there and see it in person.  Seeing it online is better than not seeing it at all, but it’s not even on the same continent as first hand observation.

By the same token, while I have broken my habit of buying a book in every museum I go to, sometimes I just have to take a catalog home.  This was one of those times.  In fact, I anticipated facing down the fury of my husband if the only thing available was some $160 hardback number.

I guess God was doing me another favor, because there was a reasonably priced soft cover edition of the catalog – only it had a large sticker designating it as the display copy.  I chatted up the clerk, who was a volunteer.  She looked in the stockroom – nothing.  She offered to have someone take a gander in the warehouse in the next day or so and call me if they had anymore.  I just stood there clasping the display edition as if my life depended on it.  “I’m leaving town this afternoon,” I all but wailed.  “Oh we can ship it to you,” she assured me.

I put off replying to her suggestion by telling her about my fireplace.  Then I mused as to what in the world I would do if there were no more of the books in the warehouse.  She decided to sell me the display copy at a discounted price.  BINGO!  I’m getting a whole lot better at this negotiating thing than I used to be.  I’d have paid full price just to have it, but I’m sure the fireplace story did the trick!

The flight home was not as trouble free as my flight to Birmingham.  The flight was delayed for hours and as a result I know more about the food vendors at the Birmingham airport than I should.  I’d been on a diet, which had been seriously threatened by the fast food offerings served to us at that thing I can’t tell you about, but what damage had not already been done got done.  So much for dieting.  And so much for Birmingham.  Come back next week and see what I’m up to.

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Filed under ART, Attractions, Decorative Arts, DESTINATIONS, Museums, Road Trips, TRAVEL, United States

Vulcan Park Tower, Birmingham AL

Birmingham from the Tower

Birmingham from the Tower

TRAVEL THERE: A STEEL CITY LANDMARK

So my boss had just arrived back in the States from someplace else that I can’t tell you about to join us at the thing I can’t tell you about.  At the end of the second day after a meal provided by the thing I can’t tell you about, there was supposed to be a worship and praise service, but the boss needed a change of scenery.  One more large meeting room filled with people and he was a goner, so we escaped.

Hannah Beth Helps Us Play Hooky

Since the meal we’d been provided was lukewarm hot dogs and stale potato chips (no offense intended, but that’s what it was), we wished we’d decided to play hooky about 30 minute previous to our boss’ confession of meeting room fatigue.  A nice dinner would have been a treat. Still, we weren’t going to waste an opportunity for some team building activities outside the meeting room.  So Hannah Beth took us on a tour.

Now I know young folks to things differently than I do, so this is not meant as criticism, but merely an observation.  While Hannah Beth has been to Birmingham several times and has the inside scoop on what to do, she depends on GPS for directions.  Her modus operandi is to take off in the direction which she thinks something is and then use voice commands to tell her phone to find the way.    This means she has one hand fully on the wheel, while she holds both the wheel and the phone in the other – all the while chatting up everyone in the car.

Yep, I’m a Nervous Nellie, so the entire time we were driving in Birmingham, I’m in the backseat praying we actually get to the place we’re headed.  Since I’m here to tell the tale, you know my prayers were answered in the affirmative, but while we were playing hooky from a praise and worship ceremony, I felt a little guilty about praying for protection.  Proves God listens all the time, I guess.

Vulcan Tower on Red Mountain

Vulcan Tower via http://birminghamal.org

Vulcan Tower via http://birminghamal.org

According to the Greater Birmingham Convention & Visitors Bureau:

“Vulcan is the largest cast iron statue in the world and Birmingham’s unofficial city symbol. Standing high atop Red Mountain, the 56-foot-high statue has an observation balcony on its pedestal for a panoramic view of the city. Vulcan is patterned after the mythical Roman god of the forge, a nod to the city’s powerful position in the iron and steel industry in the first part of the 20th century. The statue was created as Birmingham’s exhibit in the 1904 World’s Fair in St. Louis and won the exposition’s grand prize. The museum at Vulcan has interactive exhibits and displays that portray the region’s history and progress. Museum open Monday- Saturday, 10am- 6pm; Sunday, 1pm- 6pm. Observation balcony open Monday- Saturday, 10am- 10pm; Sunday, 1pm- 10pm. Admission.”

I couldn’t have said it better myself, but you can learn more on the actual Vulcan Park website.

Our boss covered the entrance fee which was just a dollar or two and we climbed the stairs to the top of the hill.  Someone who will remain nameless desperately needed to visit the rest room.  Even though the sign said the museum was open, it wasn’t and that’s where the restroom was.  In desperation, the drain in an unlocked utility room sufficed as a toilet.  That’s all I’m going to say about it, but as tired as we were, that was just the crowning glory of the day and we got a serious fit of the giggles.

Above It All

Though the tower is lovely and the park is very nice, the real draw to visiting the Vulcan Tower is that you can climb up in it.  So we did, still giggling like fools.  Now yours truly is has a slight case of acrophobia.  OK, so maybe a large case, but as we took the elevator up I was distracted by the giggling.  We walked across a steel grate which was a bridge to the steel grate which was the balcony around the tower.  There was also a fence, but all the ground around us was visible from our vantage point.

At first I just looked out toward the horizon and enjoyed the scenery (see picture from previous post).  Then I looked down.  MISTAKE.  I tried to be cool.  I tried standing away from the rail and looking toward the tower.  Didn’t work.  I started getting lightheaded and broke out in a cold sweat.  It was time to go.

On the way back to the hotel we stopped at a grocery store, to get some necessities.  That list might have included individual bottles of screw top wine, but if it did, I’m not telling.  As much fun as this adventure was, the best is yet to come, so make you way back here next week.

 

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Filed under Architecture, Attractions, DESTINATIONS, Gardens, Museums, Road Trips, TRAVEL, United States

Steel City Stories

birmingham02202017TRAVEL THERE: BIRMINGHAM FOR BUSINESS

My business is ministry and that ministry targets Central Asia and the Middle East, so I can’t always be an open book about where I go and why.  However, I can tell you I made a visit to Birmingham, Alabama for business at an unspecified time for an unspecified reason.  While I can’t give you those details, I can tell you some of the stories related to the trip.

The Crack of Dawn

In the DFW Terminal

In the DFW Terminal

My traveling companion for this particular trip was my work buddy and good friend, Hannah Beth.  I’m old enough to be her mother and she’s gracious enough to treat me as if I’m her age, and I love it.  Our flight to Birmingham was ridiculously early and we had to bring along some signage, so both of us were concerned about getting there, getting checked in and getting on the flight.  In our eagerness we got to the airport hours before we needed to.  We were there so early I had plenty of time to walk around and take pictures of the mosaics on the floor.

over-easyAn Over Easy Arrival

We arrived in Birmingham in time for breakfast.  While I’m used to being the tour guide pretty much anywhere I go, I was happy to turn the reins over to Hannah Beth on this trip.  Her sister goes to school there, so she has the inside track.  She proved that when she took us to Over Easy.  She had a breakfast-something and I had lunch-something.  Both were delicious.

The decor and atmosphere was very California:  modernesque  furniture and semi-hippie waitstaff.  Because it was a late morning on a weekday, most of the clientele were students who didn’t have early classes and a few moms who’d dropped the older kids off at school.

We arrived at the restaurant via her sister’s campus.  We Uber-ed there from the airport.  I’m not a natural Uber-er, but Hannah Beth treats it like it’s her second car.  We may work together like two peas in a pod, but we do come from opposite sides of the generation gap.  At the campus, we picked up her sister’s car – another evidence of working in ministry.  No rental cars or swanky hotels.

Speaking of the lack of swanky hotels, we stayed in a La Quinta.  Don’t get me wrong.  There was nothing wrong with the place.  It was clean and convenient.  The breakfast was good.  It was a fine place to stay, but let’s face it two stars is not exactly plush.

So that’s the basics – an early morning flight, a little transportational shuffle, a hearty breakfast and an economy hotel.  The rest of the meals were either breakfast at the hotel or something served to us at the thing I can’t tell you about.  However, this was me and I had Hannah Beth with me.  Adventures are in store.  By the way, Birmingham is called the Steel City, because it used to be the home of most of the world’s steel mills.  More about that next week, so please come back to visit.

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Filed under Accommodations, DESTINATIONS, Restaurants & Bars, TRAVEL, United States

San Marcos Premium Outlets

A Sampling of my Souvenirs

A Sampling of my Souvenirs

TRAVEL THERE: MY KIND OF SHOPPING AND MORE

I love shopping.  Actually, it would be more correct to say I love buying.  I’m perfectly capable of wandering through a bazaar or market in a faraway place, just to get a feel for the place, but for me, it’s a lot more fun if there’s buying involved.

My husband has finally cured me of that – at least when he’s around.  I used to come home from trips with a souvenir from every stop.  I collected trinket boxes and Christmas ornaments.  I loved to find handmade clothing and jewelry.  I gathered up souvenir booklets like some people collect baseball cards.  In the early years of our marriage, this practice created great discomfort for Bill.  He followed me around  with his eyes full of pain and flinched at every purchase.  I didn’t pay close enough attention, so he started helping me understand his point of view.

Collecting just doesn’t make any sense to him.  To Bill, all my gorgeous trinket boxes seemed like clutter.  He’s suggested I store most of them and only put out a few at a time.  What once held pride of place, on the fireplace mantle of my apartment, is now hidden away upstairs on a shelf in my office – along with all my framed family photos, my large collection of books and … well you get the picture.  I don’t have to allow much room for souvenirs in my return luggage, anymore.

From time to time, I’ll have a lapse of judgement.  We’ll be traveling and I’ll pick up an item with that look in my eye.  Bill goes into panic mode.  Trinket boxes and Christmas ornaments are strictly taboo.  If I’ve picked up an item for the house, Bill wants to know exactly where I plan to display it and of course, he really loves what’s there and doesn’t want to replace it.  Whatever it is, it won’t be coming home with me.  Clothing and jewelry?  Forget about it.  He asks what I’m going to throw away or donate to make space for the new item.  My only hope of making a purchase is when I find a gift for someone else.  It takes some of the fun out of it.

The Exceptions to the Rule

While he can’t see the value in that cute straw purse on the beach or an embroidered sweater in the Alps, Bill does understand I know my way around an outlet mall.  He fully endorses my outlet shopping.  Mind you, he rarely goes with me, but he also doesn’t need resuscitation when I come home with armloads of shopping bags.  See, he knows that cute straw purse on the beach has a mark-up somewhere in the range of 100%, but if I buy a top at an outlet mall, they’ve almost had to pay me to get me to carry it out.

I’m also allowed to buy shoes at DSW.  I never look at anything unless it’s on the clearance rack and even then, I’ll only look at things that are 50% or more off.  What I love is the yellow stickers, because that means they are marked down 80% or more.

San Marcos Premium Outlet

20170112_075950For some reason I cannot fathom, I never shopped at the San Marcos Premium Outlet – at least not in the last 20-30 years.  It seems as if long ago I might have gone with Mom and Aunt Edie, but I think the stores may have been on the other side of the road – and none of the stores I loved this time were there.

You know I love San Antonio and get there every time I can, but for some reason, we’d just drive right past this outlet mall or stop in Salado.  It pains me to think of all the bargains I’ve missed.

Deb and I started at Off 5th, the Saks outlet.  I’d been looking at white pique dresses all summer long, but could not tolerate spending $150-200 for one dress.  At Saks, I took several reasonably priced options to the dressing room and found one for about$20 that I loved.  (I didn’t even know I was headed to Egypt on my next trip.  Imagine how cute I will be, going out to dinner in Sharm!)  Then off to the shoe department.  Score!!  Ellen Tracy brown crocodile pumps with a leather stack heel for $16.99!   $16.99!!

20170112_080244After that auspicious beginning, my purchasing slowed down, but I did pick up a few items here and there.  Then we wandered in to Dream Land.  I pride myself on looking designer without paying designer prices, but I confess, there are designers I love and if money were no object, as my spouse if fond of saying, I’d load my closet up with them.  My new favorite is Carolina Herrera.  To my utter delight, she has an outlet store in San Marcos.  The prices are still a little out of my reach, but they are closer than the ones at Northpark.  Armani, Brahmin, Coach, Ferragamo – all these and more grace the sidewalks of the San Marcos outlet mall.

But let me tell you my favorite.  I love St. John.  I can pick out someone wearing it a mile away.  There’s a sleek elegance I aspire to that exudes from each St. John creation.  Their store is not exactly on the main drag, so we had to wander a bit to find it, but I adored the few moments I spent there.  No reason to spend any more, because nothing was in my price range.

At a final stop, we found a handbag for my bestie.  She’d been willing to pay $100 for something adequate at the Saks outlet, but we agreed to keep looking.  She got a Brahmin for about $120.  I was giddy.  She hoped I was spending her money wisely and now I think she agrees I did.

Then it was time to head back to join the women who had spend the day in Gruene, because we were headed out to dinner.  See you next week!

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Filed under DESTINATIONS, Road Trips, Shopping, TRAVEL, United States

Palmer’s is Perfect – Almost!

20160917_130446TRAVEL THERE: PARTYING ON PALMER’S PATIO

Armed with a recommendation and an address, Deb and I headed towards San Marcos.  We wanted to grab a bite before we headed to the outlet mall.  We found a lot more than a bite at Palmer’s!

An Awkward Beginning

From the street Palmer’s doesn’t look like much.  In fact, coming from Gruene, the first thing you see is a wall with a large mural.  Nothing about the mural let us know we’d made a good decision, but when we found the parking lot we realized we’d found the nirvana which had evaded me during an earlier yoga session.

A large shaded patio with a splashing fountain promised we were about to have a good time, but we had to work for it.  As we passed the patio entering the restaurant there were scads of empty tables, but when we asked to sit out there, the hostess hesitated.  She had to go check something and she asked us to sit down.  When she came back she said we’d need to wait a little and that sounded OK, until a little turned into a lot.

There was a time in my life when I would have meekly sat there until called, but that time has passed.  The hostess busied herself sorting through menus and made a career of ignoring us.  Since the patio was virtually empty, we wondered what was up.  Finally, I asked exactly what we were waiting on since there were so many tables available.  She stammered around about the wait staff having just taken orders and not being quite ready to serve us.  I didn’t stammer when I said we’d rather do our waiting outside.

She reluctantly seated us on the patio and soon we’d made our drink orders.  It was never quite clear why the hostess expected us to wait docilely in the slightly dank and very dark vestibule, but with the breeze blowing, a jazz trio playing and the water playing in the fountain, we didn’t care for very long.

Sour cream? REALLY?

Sour cream? REALLY?

A Little Bit of Heaven

So, the service was lacking before we ever got a chance to sit down, but I didn’t really care.  The food took forever to get there and when I got it, I didn’t like it very much.  (Nothing on the menu suggested the fritatta came heavily drizzled with sour cream.  There are only three things in the whole world that I won’t eat and sour cream is one of them.)  But that’s alright.  I was happy and didn’t want to get unhappy!

Sitting on the patio at Palmer’s is the closest thing I’ve found to sitting on the patio at Joe T’s; and sitting on the patio at Joe T’s is the closest thing I’ve found to heaven – only the food at Joe T’s is good, really good.

The food might have been mediocre, but they had something called a Poinsettia to drink.  For the uninitiated, a Poinsettia is the same thing as a Mimosa, except that you use cranberry juice instead of orange juice.  Orange juice is not one of the three things I refuse to partake of, but I do avoid it if I can.  Now that I know about Poinsettias, I will never have to regret that I don’t particularly like Mimosas, ever again in my life.

Here’s what’s funny.  A Poinsettia was $5, but according to the waitress, “for $8 you can get twice as much.”  I planned to be there for a while so I went for the large.  Forget twice as much!  I could have gotten everyone on the patio severely drunk with the huge bottle of Poinsettias I was served.  Deb had started with a make-your-own Bloody Mary Bar, with which she had been underwhelmed, but if we would have known, we would have just ordered the large Poinsettia and two glasses.  We both drank as much as we dared over several hours and still couldn’t make a dent.  See why the fritatta didn’t matter!!

I could go on, but the bottom line is this, the shady patio, the jazz band and the Poinsettias were so good, nothing else mattered – not the lousy service, not the mediocre food, nothing.  I will return to Palmer’s but it was time to head to the outlet mall.  Look out credit cards!!

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